


I rather burn. A Phoenix and Marcel incident

by librarius



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, OC, Phoenix - Freeform, Science, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:49:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7972420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarius/pseuds/librarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death Science Society’s annual conference takes place in New Orleans a while after Marcel has gained back power and incarcerated Klaus, thinking the family is gone.<br/>His vampires are ordered to not feed on the scientists, but some try to. They clash with one of them, to whom there’s more than the Society’s scientific interest in death. Marcel feels the need to learn more about her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> It’s Phoenix again, but in disguise.

**Chapter I  
Thursday**

 

The trouble started on Thursday when a few tourists entered the French Quarter, looking all dressed up like business people but talking like crazy gothic kids – or so it seemed. By day, there was no problem at all, but by night one of the younger vampires made a fatal mistake. Fatal for him, at least.  
He lurked in a side street, waiting for the ‘business goths’ to become his prey. Two women, talking about vampire movies, came his way when he thought it to be his chance.  
“Good evening, ladies”, he said right behind them.  
They stopped and turned around, but didn’t come to answer. In the blink of an eye the real life vampire was at one woman’s neck, ready to bite.  
He didn’t get to taste her: The other woman had lit up a torch with UV-light, pointing it right at his face. The pain made him back off, but she wouldn’t let him flee.  
His victim was clearly in shock, but the one with the lamp quite not so.  
“Hello you”, she said, pointing the UV-light to his body whenever he tried to move. It was obvious she knew exactly what the lamp did to him, but she had no intention to end his life. “I am afraid we’re no prey to you. Please go and tell your master. I am very sure that there is a deal about the annual Death Science Society conference taking place this weekend.” She waved a name plate on a yellow lanyard keychain. “Yellow keychain – no prey. Please.”  
She took down the torch.  
The vampire decided to take his chance and fled.  
“And get well soon”, she called behind him. Then she turned around to take care of her friend.

When Marcel heard about the incident, he sent someone to check the facts. The boy came back with an informational poster, saying:  
_“Cultural Studies on Death_  
Annual conference of the Death Science Society  
Timetable:  
Thursday – Arrival  
Friday – Panel I: Death cults in ancient and present cultures  
Saturday – Panel II: Cultural history of death in Ancient Egypt  
Sunday – Panel III: Death and the Dead in pop culture; departure  
Panel I and II: 9 am to 7 pm with a one-hour lunch break around 12  
Panel III: 9 am to 4 pm with a one-hour lunch break around 12  
Guests are welcome!”  
It was the first time he heard about that Society. On the other hand, that shouldn’t be a surprise: His interest in science hadn’t been too lively anyway.  
The deal, though, was true: The conference didn’t take place in the French Quarter, but they had been informed and the conference’s participants were particularly marked as a no-go. They might be tourists, but above that they were not to be touched at all.  
Nevertheless, Marcel hadn’t thought a _scientist_ could be militant in the means of carrying a UV-light with them. To him, that was as if they knew there could be danger. It made him wonder – and it made him attend the opening of the first panel on Friday. He even let the unsuccessful hunter borrow a daylight ring to come with him and identify the woman that was so well prepared she could have killed her attacker.


	2. Friday

**Chapter II  
Friday**

 

Marcel and the boy, Tommy, arrived with a group of locals curious about the event and the master of the French Quarter decided to do just the same as everybody else did: He got the two of them a guest’s ticket to attend the conference.  
The Society seemed to have taken over the hotel completely. When they left the lobby to follow all the suits to the conference’s opening, they almost got run over by a nervous young man. The guy ran past them verly close, calling “Professor Petum!” in an enthusiastic way.  
The two vampires turned to see where he was headed – and Tommy froze.  
“That’s her?” Marcel guessed and the boy nodded. “Leave. And give the ring back”, his master ordered and turned his attention to the woman.  
She was in her thirties, wearing a suit of midnight-blue and she had a very gentle voice, calming the man who had been so eager to meet her. Quite average she seemed to Marcel, not different from her colleagues. He decided to be cautious when approaching her. His senses let him overhear the conversation of the two unsuspecting people. Right now, the woman smiled and said: “People keep calling me professor, although it’s an honorable degree _and_ crazy. Usually you get a doctor’s, but a professor’s? It’s ridiculous.”  
The enthusiastic young man didn’t quite know how to react: “Well, you did a lot of important research on the topic of…”  
Marcel left before he would be caught listening. Her gaze had grazed him twice by now and his instincts told him he had been right: There was more to this woman than could be seen first sight. She must have a seventh sense at the least.

There was enough time from the first panel’s end to dinner, so Lily Petum decided to take a bath and see if there were any changes or corrections to make regarding her own lecture tomorrow. She had recognized yesternight’s wannabe-attacker and easily realized who the man next to him would be, but she had no interest in taking the first step. Mister Gerard, as she knew he was named, would make an approach anyway.  
Lily sighed softly before getting into the hot water. _Vampires_ , she mused. _There are these and those kinds of them._ Her very special vampire was not around this time. She had known that the moment she’d arrived. But he hadn’t been the reason she came, anyway.  
About ten minutes later she knew the momentary Lord of the place had entered her room. _And without permission_ , she thought. So her information was right. She kept her eyes shut until the change of air in the bathroom told her about the open door. “I would have expected you to at least knock on the door”, she said, opening her eyes and looking him up and down _very_ slowly. Lily felt no interest in a confrontation, but his lack of manners was something she would not pass unmentioned. _No style at all_ , she thought regretfully, thinking of Elijah once more. The suit folded his arms.  
She gave a disappointed sigh. “You are here to show me that you can come in without being invited, which makes you more powerful than a normal vampire. I see the threat that comes along with this affront to my privacy and I find it disappointing.”  
“Disappointing”, Marcel echoed leaning against the wall as if he owned it.  
“I’d like to take my bath undisturbed. A gentleman of manners should know that”, she told him.  
“And _I_ would like to talk to you”, he simply replied.  
Her face showed no sign of concern. “If you want to have a little chat, invite me out. If not, let me go on about my business.” She looked at him coldly. He did not move. With an unnerved sigh she got up and reached for her bathrobe.  
The moment she was dressed, Marcel stood right behind her. She could feel his breath on her bare neck. Unimpressed, she just turned around. “You are far from your district. And you don’t _want_ to break the deal”, she just said.  
“What happens if I do?” He wondered if maybe it was her who had set the deal for the conference in the first place. How else could she know about it?  
“You might get burned, playing with fire. See: I don’t care about your ideas of what’s allowed and what is not. And I also do not care about your quarrels, if there are some. The participants of this conference are no prey, this is the deal. If you like to come listening, you may: Maybe you learn a thing or two.”  
“I think I already _know_ a thing or two.”  
She tilted her head as if he had said something stupid. “Me, too.” Petum took one step closer. “For example: Just because you’re centuries old doesn’t mean you have to be arrogant.” Her gaze was cold still. Then she just left the room to get dressed for dinner.

Petum obviously knew more about New Orleans than the random tourist, telling him of age – she had just plainly admitted she knew he was a vampire – in a city full of even more supernatural things. But then, why wasn’t she afraid or at least cautious dealing with him? How did she know to carry a UV-light with her, just in case? And if she knew that much, what would she have done if Tommy had had a ring?  
Marcel wasn’t at all pleased with himself. He had been thinking a surprise visit in a vulnerable situation would overwhelm her. He had been wrong, obviously. But why?  
Who was that so-called scientist?  
He left her hotel room while she was getting dressed, but she would see him again very soon.

Dinner was more like a 90th birthday in a very big family: About 70 people crowded each and every table, creating a banquette of a kind, with a huge buffet and waiters and waitresses all over the place.  
The lively discussion sustained the topics of the conference’s first panel and even started on some questions to be discussed in tomorrow’s lectures. Also, the myths and legends of New Orleans were brought up. Marcel learned that the supernatural reputation of the city was the reason for this year’s conference to take place here.  
After dinner, most of the conferees changed over to the hotel bar and the discussion Marcel overheard turned to different kinds of immortality, both in theory and legend. When Petum said “Immortality usually comes with a cost”, a Dr. Newton agreed with her, saying: “And that’s the thing, isn’t it? The cost… I’ll go with _Queen_ on that and keep it ‘Who wants to live forever’.”

When later most of the scientists had left the Hotel bar, Marcel took his chance to catch her alone again. He took seat by her table and said: “I can make you immortal.”  
She looked at him with no explicit expression: “I am not interested.”  
Before he could say any more, she added: “And even _if_ I were, I would very much prefer to decide myself, whom to bond with in that sort of life-link such would possibly create.”  
He stared at her as if she had slapped his face. After a moment’s silence, he said: “I am the most powerful vampire in existence.”  
She shrugged. “By a spell, I presume. And every spell can be broken.”  
“Not this one.”  
“ _Especially_ this one.” She set her glass onto the table and leaned in. “The one thing I have learned regarding the supernatural is this: The more a creature thinks it’s unbeatable, the easier it falls. Maybe not today, but as seen with what is told about the vampire family that has lived here in the past, I’d say you just don’t know what will take you out one day. But there certainly is something, or will be.”  
Marcel decided to change the topic: “What _have_ you heard about the family that has lived here?”  
“Not very much”, she said. “Vampires of old age, siblings. Made immortal by a spell, and since such can be broken, taken down by something related to it.” She shrugged. “As a scientist, I’d really like to know all the facts regarding this, but I’m not interested in digging into fairytale history.” She leaned back relaxed, shrugging and folding her arms behind her head. “It’s not Egypt, you know? I’m not an expert on vampires. Just curious.”  
There they were again. Marcel repeated his offer: “I can make you one.”  
She took up her glass and refused. “No, thanks. I like my life the way it is. Plus, your attitude simply doesn’t fit with me.”


	3. Saturday

**Chapter III  
Saturday**

 

The next day, whilst everybody else was having lunch, Lily Petum went straight to Marcel’s place. During the night and the morning some little accidents had happened around her, out of which every single one could have killed her. She certainly knew who was behind it and she was about to make very clear what she thought about it.  
“Marcel”, she said in a clear and icy voice, not entering the house. She knew he would hear her anyway. “Show yourself to me, Marcel.”  
“What is it?” He gave a smile as if nothing had happened. The vampires he had sent to have a deadly accident happen to her had not returned yet. Seeing her here, obviously pissed off, could mean she had killed them. Petum had made herself very clear on that yesterday. A slight anger mixed with his amusement.  
“Please. Do not insult my intellect. I would have liked you to not try this. Aren’t you said to only take volunteers? So what are you up to with me?”  
“I don’t know what you mean.” He said, leaving the house and coming to her. Where did she get her information, he wondered.  
A smirk crept up her face. “Good the conference place is not in the French Quarter. I would be very sorry if an innocent person would be injured.”  
“Are you threatening me?”  
“Just be honest, Marcel. I don’t want to be angry.” By now he stood right in front of her, waiting for what she had to say. “Was it your blood – in my glass?” she asked.  
He smirked.  
“And your order to have me have an accident?”  
He had no time to answer, because she took the two remaining steps to stand eye to eye. That was _very_ close. “I would have thought you wiser”, she said in a low voice, eyes lighting up suddenly. The air around him started to crackle and heat arose in his back.   
When he turned around, he saw fire. His house was on fire!  
He spun around and saw her walk away at a leisurely pace. In a blink of an eye he was in front of her, making her stop walking. “What is that?!” He was furious.  
“What is what?” she asked, voice all innocent.  
In the same moment, the unearthly fire was gone. He stared. At the house, at her, then at the house again.  
“Mister Gerard. You may be old, but you know not all and everything about the world and how to live in it. There are things a polite person doesn’t do. Force others into decisions they don’t want, for example. The conference will last only one more day. Keep your vampires to what is theirs, and yourself to your own business. I would hate to burn down this beautiful house, or defend myself against your people again, just to make sure you understand and go by your own rules.”  
Marcel grabbed her by the shoulder, but let go immediately: She was hot as fire although she didn’t burn. She gave a sad smile. “Please”, she said. “Don’t get all aggressive. I will not become one of your kind.”  
A vision of burning wings rushed through his mind – or did he see those on her? It made him stop and just blankly stare at her. “What are you?”  
She sighed. “You wouldn’t understand. Plus, I have twenty minutes left for lunch. You may accompany me, if you like. But you will behave like a grown up, reasonable human being, if you do.”

It had cost him quite some composure to not attack her for her impudence against him. New Orleans was his city! He had ended Klaus’ reign – twice! He was the most powerful vampire alive! And nothing of it seemed to impress her at all.  
“It’s about manners”, she had told him when they actually went for a quick lunch. “When you showed up at the conference, I knew what you were and also who you’d turn out to be. I have to admit: I was a bit disappointed about your behavior. Just because you _can_ doesn’t mean you _have_ to act like an idiot.”  
He had thought about it and realized that yes, he had changed since he became _strong_.  
“I myself prefer the calm kind of people. True power has no need to prance”, she added and emptied her shake. “Would you like to attend to my paper? It’s on Egyptian immortality rites, their changes and legends.” She grinned. “If their belief is correct – which should always be scientifically doubted – _their_ rites came with a cost, too. And like everything, they could be broken.”

“Welcome to the second half of today’s panel. I hope you’re all still awake, because we don’t want to slumber away immortality. We’re about to hear Professor Lily Petum talk about her very dear research: Egyptian death cults in the course of time.  
Petum doesn’t really like to be called a professor, so I will stop doing that right here right now – although, my dear Lily, you have earned it.” The president of the DS Society gave a gentle smile to her, then went on. “Petum published on Egyptian death cults, rites and myths for fifteen years now. Besides that, she has also researched on South America and especially the Mexican Dios de los Muertos. Today, we will have her give us an introduction of commonly unknown Egyptian rites of immortality and their changes during the centuries.”  
Lily Petum entered the lectern, thanking for the introduction and began with telling about the main differences between death cults and immortality cults.  
Marcel leaned back and decided to listen carefully. Maybe something she said would give him a hint of what kind of creature she was.

Petum’s paper was interesting but didn’t give away any usable information on what she was. Nevertheless, it gave him a feeling of her knowing her topic for a much longer time than the other scientists assumed.  
Marcel wondered. And he decided to ask a certain witch for a favor. Maybe Vincent could find out more about the professor.

Vincent began a conversation with Petum when the whole bunch of scientists invaded the hotel’s restaurant by joining the discussion on voodoo and revenants. It was a lively discussion of scientists as well as guests to the conference. Whilst the evening passed, the topics changed as well as the participants, but Vincent remained and waited for the right moment: Her to be alone. That moment came when they left the restaurant to go on with the night at a bar nearby.  
Vincent realized that she very much already knew why he was still there, when she appeared by his side, saying: “What does Mr. Gerard want you to find out about me?”  
He looked at her wide smile and undoubtedly intelligent eyes in surprise. “Well, get me a Red Lemonade and a seat by the side and we can talk”, she went on, then turned her attention back to the group’s chatter.  
By the time he had done as she asked, Petum came over to his table, sat down and thanked him. “So?”  
He took a deep breath. “It’s an interesting bunch, all the scientists”, he began.  
She nodded. “Yeah, I like the DS Society. Once a year we all get together with our _gothic interest_ ”, there she grinned. “People usually think it rather morbid.” Petum tasted her drink. He had not been too surprised it was a non-alcoholic order. In his thoughts, she was cautious against a potential threat.  
“You’re a witch”, she said. It was a fact, not a question. “Are you here ordered by Mr. Gerard or is it a favor?”  
“A favor, I’d say. He’d like to know what you are.”  
“Suspicious. I guess that comes with age. Or is it paranoia already?” it was a rhetorical question. “What do you need to find out ‘what’ I am?”  
“A drop of your blood, maybe.”  
She sighed theatrically. “Always the blood!” Then she shook her head. “This will not happen. I am a traveler, and a cultural scientist, that’s more than a random stranger needs to know. Furthermore, my blood is not useful – and not tasty as well – so I will keep it.”  
Vincent kept silent for a moment. Her eyes were earnest and his instincts told him it might not end well to try and force her.  
“Nevertheless, you know what I am”, he tried to trade.   
She gave a polite smile. “That was not difficult at all. Nevertheless, I’m none of your business. Mr. Gerard has been very rude in his inquiry just because one of his youngsters couldn’t keep his fangs down and had to face the outcome. I told him they better behave and follow the rules which is no attacks on participants of the conference. There is only one more day to go and afterwards – we’ll all be gone. No need to burn anything in my opinion.”  
 _So that is that_ , Vincent thought. _They attacked someone and she’s been protective._   
“Oh”, he said. “Well… sounds like you’re right. Even I know the conference is part of a deal.”  
“See. I have no idea why he had to molest me in the first place. Now he thinks there’s a riddle to be solved, while the only real question is: Are they under his command or not?”


	4. Sunday

**Chapter IV  
Sunday**

“Well, good morning, Mister Gerard. Are you curious about pop culture’s ideas on your kind?”  
“Sure”, he said.  
“And did you talk to Vincent already?”  
“I wish we could cooperate.” He had talked to Vincent, but he didn’t like the information he got. She remained a secret.  
“I see no need in that. I’m nothing you should be interested in and even if I were: Your ways of negotiating with people upset me and I am quite happy to leave town today. You know, I rather burn in a medieval witch trial than be part of your uncivilized lot. It’s a question of personal freedom.”  
“No matter immortality?”  
She rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you been there yesterday? I can recap it for you: It’s not worth the price. I am not interested.”  
“Others have thought different about it.”  
She seemed irritated by his constant attempts. “I’m not _others_. Let us end this repetition with this, _Mister Gerard_ : I have nothing against vampires. But I rather burn down your regency than bowing to it. And _you_ won’t last forever. Nothing does. I told you so.”  
With that, she turned and found herself a seat amidst her fellow scientists, far from the visitors’ rows. Petum didn’t talk to him again, but Marcel knew she watched him cautiously. When after the conference the last bus left, she formed the rear guard, leaving New Orleans forever, it seemed.

Leaving the city of witches behind, she wondered what might have happened to her very dear vampire. “Lily” would have known about his death, so something else must have happened to him – and to all of his family as well.  
She shrugged, knowing no reign lasted forever. Today’s vampire king of New Orleans was powerful, but boring. There was nothing worth even thinking about. Especially not with her long forgotten home in Egypt calling for her. The old days she missed, but as it seemed, they laid ahead again.  
When the plane took off, she smiled to herself, anticipation tickling on her skin.


End file.
